


to eat well

by girlsonthetv



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, New Relationship, Post-Timeskip, Stress Eating, mostly Ashe for the first half, the ol bridal carry, unhealthy eating habits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-23 06:11:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21315484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlsonthetv/pseuds/girlsonthetv
Summary: Ashe and Dedue are both drawn to the dining hall when the stresses of war grow overwhelming, though for different reasons. It's what brought them together in the first place, after all.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 5
Kudos: 56





	to eat well

It was a pitch-black winter midnight at Garreg Mach Monastery, and the building was completely silent. If one were to walk those halls, they would hear no sound other than the whistle of wind through the old building's myriad cracks and crevices. Buildings as old as Garreg Mach inevitably acquire signs of wear and tear, just as old women acquire their wrinkles, and to both they are badges of honor, signs of times survived. One would see not a shadow stirring in these ancient corridors.

Well, not quite. One inhabitant of the monastery was still wide awake, and he was tucked away in the corner of the dining hall, at the very end of the table the Blue Lion House once claimed dominion over, years and years ago. He was trying to be as quiet as he possibly could, but when his surroundings were as silent as the grave, even the softest sounds of chewing and swallowing were echoed back to him, making his cheeks burn red. 

Ashe had assembled quite the spread for himself. Warm soup, fresh homemade rolls, sweet buttery shortbread that melted in the mouth; he had even managed to get a helping of pheasant roast and potatoes. The kind of warm, filling comfort food that was crucial to getting through Faerghus winters. He had gotten through the pheasant, and was working on the bread and potatoes - he had learned the hard way that it was best to eat the heaviest foods, first. Saints alive, he hadn't expected it to become a habit, but war was stressful. Who would have thought. 

_Unbelievable_, a little voice in the back of his head whispered nastily as he finished the third of, oh, four or five rolls. _All those years of living on a shoestring, and now you want to waste food?_ Ashe shoved that voice away as he swallowed the last bite of bread and lifted a spoonful of soup to his lips. The thing he didn't want to admit, even to himself in the dark of night, was that he did want it, he wanted it so badly he could hardly think straight now that he was doing it. He wanted to pamper himself, wanted to feel full and warm and comfortable.

It had started when Lonato had first taken him in - would he ever be able to think of him again without tears pressing at the back of his eyes? Unlikely. Regardless, he would never forget sitting down to dinner with the man that first evening in his threadbare clothes, being presented with more food of a better quality than his family's table had ever seen, and being told he could eat as much as he liked. 

Needless to say, when you present a half-starved ten-year-old boy with more food than he'd had in the past month and give him free rein, he will make himself sick as a dog. Lonato blamed himself for it later; in the meantime, he had let him sleep it off in a spare room at Castle Gaspard and brought him a cup of tea himself. Falling asleep in a little nest of warm blankets, with a full belly and Lonato smoothing his hair back - well, he supposed it had made an impression on his psyche. That was his best guess, anyway, for why an overly-full stomach had become synonymous with comfort for him from that point on. 

He paused in the middle of his bowl of soup to hiccup, rubbing his warm belly. Despite his self-flagellating thoughts, he felt good, cozy and comfortably stuffed. This would be a good place to stop... but shortbread didn’t keep very well. Did it? He couldn't remember, so it was better to be safe than sorry. He took a bite of the first thin cookie and couldn't help but moan - both from the sweet taste and the sharp cramp in his stomach warning him to quit while he was ahead. Nevertheless he finished it - sweets were scarce in times of war, and this little box of cookies that wouldn't have costed him a third of his pocket money before the war now went for a pretty penny. He'd worked for the money to buy them, he reasoned, therefore, he had earned the right to eat every single one, until he couldn't breathe, until he couldn't think about anything other than how full he was. 

The voice in the back of his head wasn't convinced, and he still felt guilty, but not nearly guilty enough to keep him from eating. He tried his best to savor each one, but they still disappeared quicker than he would have liked. They tasted of nostalgia, of simpler childhood days long gone, and Ashe couldn't get enough. Would he ever be able to get enough? Maybe, maybe not. There was only one way to find out. 

His throat ached from all the sugar. He wished he'd had the foresight to get some water, but considering the complaints of his stomach, maybe it was a good thing he didn't have anything else to put in it. He had to force the last few pieces of shortbread down; once he was finally, finally done, he curled up around his stomach like he'd wounded it and was waiting on a timely Physic. He closed his eyes and focused on breathing in and out. The only thing for it was to just sit still for a little while, until he felt able to move again. 

The door to the dining hall creaked open and Ashe's blood ran cold; he resisted the urge to groan out loud when he heard Dedue's distinctive deep voice. 

"Who is in here?"

Of all the people to discover him binging in the middle of the night, Ashe couldn't think of anyone he wanted to encounter less than Dedue. He heaved a sigh that didn't quite reach the bottom of his lungs - goddess Sothis, he was _full_ \- and called out, "It's only me, Dedue," letting out a soft noise somewhere between a hiccup and a groan. He wrapped his arms tighter around his belly as if that would conceal his indulgence in any meaningful way. 

Dedue stepped forward, candle in hand. He didn't look angry or judgmental - more confused and concerned than anything. "What are you doing?" 

Ashe's shoulders sagged. "I... I don't really know." He desperately hoped Dedue couldn’t hear his stomach churning, although it seemed loud enough to him for the whole monastery to hear. "I couldn't sleep, so I came in here, and..." 

Dedue eyed the empty plates in front of Ashe. "You were hungry?" 

Ashe nodded. "But I, er... I may have overdone it, just a bit." He laughed nervously as his face flushed redder than it ever had. "Just give me a minute to digest, and I'll wash my dishes and we can both pretend we never saw each other." 

Dedue gave him one of those unreadable looks that made him sweat. "I was thinking of making a pot of ginger tea. Would you like some?" A brief pause. "It may help settle your stomach." 

"That sounds wonderful, Dedue. Thank you." The possibility of relief for his self-inflicted ache overcame his shame at being discovered in such a state. 

"You are always welcome, Ashe." A hint of a smile in the flickering candlelight - maybe Ashe had imagined it. Dedue took the candle with him to the front of the large room, and Ashe used the movement of the little flame to track Dedue's progress. Soon, the hall filled with the smell of fragrant ginger tea, and Dedue came back with the teapot and two cups. He sat next to Ashe and poured him his cup, despite Ashe's protests that he could do it himself.

They drank their tea with no sugar or cream, and the hot drink was lovely in a room as cold as a tomb. Ashe had never been all that partial to the biting warmth of cinnamon and ginger, but ever since he learned they were Dedue’s favorites, he had come around to them. He sighed happily as he finished his cup, and he could breathe a little easier, now. 

Drowsiness overcame him slowly, then all at once, like a wave crashing into shore, and he leaned his head against Dedue's shoulder before he entirely realized what he was doing. Dedue laughed softly and tentatively reached out a hand to brush his hair from his face. In every gesture, there was a question; _is this crossing a line?_ When the answer was _no_, they proceeded. 

"You cannot sleep here, Ashe." Dedue murmured. "Would you mind if I carried you to your room?" Positioned as he was, Ashe could feel Dedue's heart rate pick up. It made him bolder. 

"If you like. I wouldn't want you - " a yawn so large he hears his jaw crack; what time is it, anyway? " - to go out of your way, though." 

"Your room is not far from mine, Ashe." With that, Dedue lifted him like a bride, careful not to press too hard on his stomach. 

“Oh, I don’t deserve this.” Ashe mumbled, mostly to himself. Dedue said nothing, but held him a little tighter to his chest. A reassurance. 

Ashe hated the monastery at night when he was a child going to school, and even as an adult the wind whistling through the halls makes the hair on the back of his neck rise. That night, however, he was simply too tired to be scared, and he felt so warm and safe in Dedue’s arms that ghosts were the furthest thing from his mind. “Aren’t you going to ask me about it?” Ashe asked as they neared his room.

“About what?” 

“About... what I was doing.” Ashe’s heart sank to think of it, now that it was over and done. 

Dedue was silent, and Ashe couldn’t help but think he was disgusted by him - _but then why would he have helped you? If he hated you, he wouldn’t be doing this for you._ A sweeter voice than the last one, a kinder voice, reassured him in his head. 

“I felt as if you didn’t want to talk about it, Ashe.” Dedue set him down gently outside his door. “So, I will not ask. If I have misjudged you, you are free to talk.” 

“No, you didn’t misjudge me.” Ashe laughs, a little embarrassed. He wanted to talk about it, just... perhaps not right then. “But...” Ashe spoke up quickly, in case Dedue intended to leave, but it seemed like he didn’t, “...why were you awake? Is there something going on with you?” 

“...Only bad dreams.” Dedue was looking at Ashe but not seeing him, that thousand-yard-stare all his friends had acquired. It hurt his heart to see it. “Do not worry about me, Ashe. You should get some sleep.” 

“I want to, though. Worry about you, I mean. You’re so good to me, the least I can do is be good to you.” Ashe steps forward, takes Dedue by the hand, rubs his thumb across the inside of his palm. “Do you want to... come to bed with me? Not in that sense!” He hastens to clarify, tongue tripping over his words. Dedue smiles. “In the literal sense.” 

Dedue squeezes Ashe’s hand lightly, as if scared he’ll break it. He insists on treating Ashe as if he’ll shatter into pieces, when he’s proven time and again he is not cast in porcelain. Far from being frustrating, Ashe finds it quite endearing. “I would like that, Ashe.” 

Ashe picks the lock with a hairpin, having left the key in the room, and shows Dedue how in case he ever does the same. Once the door was opened, Ashe collapsed into bed, and Dedue sits on the edge, only lying down once Ashe smiles and tugs him by the wrist. Dedue reached out hesitantly, as if to touch a wounded animal, and gently stroked the curve of Ashe’s stomach. “Do you feel better, Ashe?” 

Ashe leans into Dedue's touch, purring. “Much better. If you hadn’t come around, I’d likely still be there.” Ashe rolled over onto his side to look Dedue in the eye. “Dedue... I love you.” 

"I... I love you, too." For a moment they face each other and say nothing, then both start laughing softly as if they'd done something mischievous. They'd never said the specific words aloud before; they'd said "your cooking is delicious" or "eat as much as you'd like" and conveyed the same meaning. Saying "I love you" that first time was like speaking an incantation, and they snuggled close to each other in Ashe's bed like they'd been doing it for years. Both had the best sleep they'd had in more than five years.

**Author's Note:**

> i finished this and was fully prepared to let it languish in my hard drive until nic read it and said it was really good and i should post it. so if you enjoyed, thank nic


End file.
